The ravings of a psychopath

Blah, blah, blah chemistry... Blah, blah, blah retakes... Blah, blah, blah terribly hackneyed, repetitive excuses. Now with all that bollocks cleared up... Wait, my thinly veiled attempts to divert attention away from the fact that I haven’t written anything since last year are failing? Well screw you buddy, my life’s been a little hectic and as such, I didn’t deem this most grand housing for the brain farts that I call blog posts worth a visit. Fortunately for you, I’ve found a brief lapse in this crushing waste that I call a life to let you catch a whiff of the latest rumblings that have been brewing for some time.

I’ll level with you; my last few months have been tearfully monotonous save the odd moment of general absurdity. Now, I must proceed with caution henceforth, I make it a policy of mine to not explicitly state the names of people involved in various situations, namely to prevent embarrassment on their part but also to stop those I count as friends from being linked to the ravings of a crazed half-wit. Now, to the situation itself, essentially I lent a friend a pound to buy a gift for my ex-girlfriend who was going to give it to her new girlfriend, whilst sitting next to her most recent ex who also happens to be one of my best friends. It’s fucked up, I know. Apologies to any of those who recognise themselves in the piece, it was far to fucking surreal to pass up.  I’ve seen politicians speak that is less convoluted than this. Who am I kidding? That was a simile too far.

If that wasn’t strange enough, I’ve had another occurrence with the current women in my life. So, the other day I returned home to my humble abode to the chattering of my mother. She starts telling me about some panorama show about a brain scanning technique to test for psychopaths, says that the main scientist found out that he was one. Then she has the gall to suggest that I, Mr Sensitive, may be one such a character. I know right, she couldn’t be further from the truth! Alright, I may have only realised she was really ill with a cold when I happened upon her coughing a few weeks into it. Ok, ok, I may be coldly indifferent to the trivialities of the home but who could blame me? Distraught, I sought comfort from the one person I knew would have my back, come rain or shine; my beautiful girlfriend. Casually, I brought up and explained the situation to her, looking for some reassurance; she turns to me, looks me dead in the eye and agrees with my mother! How could they both say that! Fair enough, I did kind of make light of a friend of her’s recently deceased mother to lighten the mood. I’m also able to lie perfectly on cue now that I think about it... but that’s not the point!

The way things are looking, I should give up on the whole science biz and invest in hockey masks and sharp things...

Joke I heard recently and had been dying to share

Q. Why was the stupid basalt happier than the clever calcium?

A. Because igneous is bliss